


Kairos

by Rivendell101



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Ice Cream Parlors, M/M, Slow Burn, Will They Won't They relationship, greek mythology talk, some language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7918033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivendell101/pseuds/Rivendell101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks up from across the table. "Do you know why this place is called Kairos, Percy?" she asks, staring at Will and Nico across the room. He shrugs, and she continues. "It's Greek. 'The supreme moment.' The fleeting rightness of time and place for words or action," she tells him. "If you keep running you'll miss it." They all will.</p>
<p>Working at a New York ice cream shop in the middle of Winter, Percy decides, is a hell of a lot like watching paint dry. It’s, well boring, for lack of a better word. No one ever comes into the shop at this time of year—because who really wants to order ice cream when it’s negative digits outside and your fingers feel like they’re going to freeze and fall off? Not Percy, that’s who!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Working at a New York ice cream shop in the middle of Winter, Percy decides, is a hell of a lot like watching paint dry. It’s, well _boring_ , for lack of a better word. No one ever comes into the shop at this time of year—because who really wants to order ice cream when it’s negative digits outside and your fingers feel like they’re going to freeze and fall off? Not Percy, that’s who! Not anyone actually. Well, other than that weird kid—Will or Wallace or whatever his name is—that comes in every day at four o’clock sharp and buys pear and blue cheese gelato—which, _eww?_ Why would anyone want to order freaking pear and blue cheese gelato? That’s actually the most disgusting thing he’s ever heard of. Percy doesn’t even know _why_ they keep that in stock. It’s probably that Will—Walt? Walsh?—kid’s fault, he’s the only one that ever orders the damn stuff.

One waffle cone of pear and blue cheese gelato. Without fail. Every. Damn. Day.

Pear and blue cheese.

Why does that even exist? Who in their right mind thought that would be an okay ice cream flavor? Who seriously sat down and thought that people would enjoy that? Freaking Ben and Jerry that’s who. _Those assholes_. A million god damn flavor combinations they could make and they choose pear and blue fucking cheese.

Anyway, yeah. Working at an ice cream shop in the middle of Winter is like watching paint dry, only a lot colder and quite a bit messier thanks to Jason I-fall-down-a-lot Grace and his two left feet. Jason’s situation is kind of strange. He’s one of the better players on the football team in the fall and he plays soccer in the spring—is the team’s captain actually—but as soon as you take him off the field he turns into a baby deer that can’t stop tripping over it’s too long legs. Kind of like Bambi. Adorable, but kind of a safety hazard. The Jason situation would probably be funny, too, if Percy wasn’t the one that had to clean up after him every time he broke something.

And the day’s been slow. Like, criminally slow. Like, so slow that Percy is getting paid to sit on his ass and watch Netflix on his phone for the majority of his shift. The shop has been open since seven, and since Percy started his shift at noon the only customers have been a couple of high school kids skipping class (they shoved a five in the tip jar when Percy gave them a look, and he wonders if it’s morally wrong that his silence can be bought for only five dollars), a clearly exasperated father and his three children, all of which were clearly under the age of ten (Percy gave him an extra scoop of double chunk chocolate and the man’s smile seemed to become a _little_ more genuine after that), and a man wearing a banana costume that ordered a banana split and walked away giggling.

Sometime between the exhausted dad and the giggly banana man, Travis joined him up front at the counter, texting someone rapidly and grinning like an idiot when they responded. Percy didn’t ask who he was talking to. Partly because he really didn’t care, and partly because if Travis got arrested for something, Percy couldn’t be charged with aiding and abetting a criminal. Recently, Travis begun constructing what looks like a castle made out of cheap plastic ice cream bowls and colorful popsicle sticks, as Percy moved on to some weird nature documentary he needed to watch for his philosophy course.

Everything is fine. The shop is quiet, Grover is taking inventory in the back, Percy is actually enjoying a learning experience, and Nico, Jason, and Connor are entering the shop to start their after-school shift, disappearing into the back to put on their uniforms with greetings ranging in enthusiasm (Connor vaults over the counter and slaps Percy on the back, Jason gives him a wide grin, and Nico just scowls at the classy black vest in his hands as Jason drags the younger boy into the back). The snow has stopped, the birds are chirping, and Percy has made enough tips to pick up a large pizza—maybe even two pizzas—on his way back to the dorms. Life is good. Everything is great.

And then Travis Stoll stops making his popsicle stick castle and opens his big mouth.

Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as he pauses his documentary and wishes Travis had just kept his mouth shut for once.

“Hey, Percy?” he starts casually, fiddling with a purple popsicle stick and acting all _too_ nonchalant. Travis isn’t nonchalant. He’s the exact opposite of nonchalant. Travis is a prankster and a pickpocket, and the only time he acts casual is when he wants something or something green and gooey is about to explode.

Percy side-eyes him, hands clenching just a little bit tighter as Travis begins to pick at his nails. He glances Travis up and down, looking for anything that might give him away. His left leg is jiggling against his stool, practically trembling, rather than bouncing normally.

His lips twist down in a grimace. That’s not an I’ve-just-pranked-someone leg jiggle. The I’ve-just-pranked-someone leg jiggle is less of a jiggle and more or a legs-swinging-in-absolute-glee-as-I-wait-for-someone-to-get-punked.

So, he’s probably _not_ going to be covered in some strange viscous material, at least, not here at work. That means it’s the other thing. Travis wants something, and frankly that’s probably worse. At least if Percy’s covered in green goo he gets to go home early and skip out on the last half of his shift. If Travis wants something, that means Percy’s going to be here for a while.

He rolls his eyes as he realizes what Travis wants. The same thing Travis _always_ wants. And Percy isn’t falling for it again. “Nope,” he tells Travis, not bothering to look at him. He won’t be tricked again. He _will not_ be tricked into staying in this ice cream shop all damn night. Not this time. “I don’t wanna work the late shit for you again so that you can go fail at flirting with Katie Gardner.”

The first time Percy met Katie Gardner, he accidentally stepped on one of her newly planted flower beds when he was in a hurry to get to class and she screamed at him for twenty minutes about how it’s “people like you that are destroying the environment!” He was too embarrassed to go to class, so he ended up sulking here at the shop until almost midnight because he was afraid she would still be out there.

At least he and Katie have worked out their differences and get along now. Travis? Travis is a completely different story. He openly antagonizes Katie. Pranking her and decorating her dorm room flower-box with chocolate bunnies on Easter. Apparently, it’s some kind of weird, longstanding rivalry between the two that’s been going on since they were only in high school.

The way Percy sees it, Travis is kind of like a middle school boy that teases the girl he likes, completely inept, but at least he’s trying! Though, Percy doesn’t understand why Travis would go out of his way to incur the wrath of Katie Gardner.

Travis, he decides, is a masochist.

He glances at a sputtering Travis, whose blue eyes have gone wide, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he stares back at Percy, aghast. “Wha—what?” he sputters, shoving his messy chestnut hair out of his eyes. “Me?” Travis scoffs. “Why would you think I was going to ask something like that? I would never!” He places a hand on his chest, looking at Percy like he’d just offended his grandmother. “Also I am not failing at flirting with Katie!” he tacks on as an afterthought, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes, you are!” someone shouts from the back, voice muffled by the wall. A second voice snickers in response to the first, but Percy can’t tell who. Probably Connor. It’s usually Connor

Travis gasps, and whirls around on his spinning stool, glaring at the back room. His hand flies up, an accusing finger pointing towards the invisible culprit. “No one asked you, di Angelo!”

He spins back around just as quickly, looking at Percy with wide, pleading eyes.

Percy doesn’t fall for it.

He’s already shaking his head by the time Travis looks at him. “No,” he repeats, setting down his phone and crossing his arms. “You’ve tricked me into working the late shift for you _five times_ in the past two months,” he reminds Travis, glaring at him halfheartedly. “I’m not doing it again!”

Travis whistles, laughing lightly. “Five times? Really?” he snickers.

Percy’s frown deepens as he rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

Travis’s gives him a grin that’s more teeth than anything else, and Percy is suddenly reminded of a wolf. A brunette wolf that Percy kind of wants to strangle.

“Doesn’t that say a little bit more about you than it does about me, though?” Travis asks him, smiling wider.

Would he be fired if he just picked up Travis, brought him outside, and tossed him in the dumpster where he belongs? Probably not, actually. Chiron is a pretty cool boss, so Percy could totally get away with it. He could just lie about it, too. Say a strange, masked man swooped in and grabbed Travis before Percy could stop him. The others would back him up.

Though, Chiron would definitely be disappointed in him. And if there’s one thing Percy hates, it’s disappointing the people he cares about. Chiron would be all “you’re the manager, Percy” and “you’ve got to be more responsible, Percy” and “I trusted you, Percy.” Well Percy didn’t even want to be the manager, so there! He can barely take care of himself, let alone two pickpockets, a golden boy, and a Goth kid that keeps _badgering him_ about a slam poetry night—because, _dammit, Nico! This is an ice cream shop! Take your damn slam poetry somewhere else!_

Percy’s glare intensifies. “I’m not working the late shift again,” he says firmly. “Go ask someone else.”

Like Piper. Or Thalia. Or Bianca! You know, the other three people that are supposed to work at _Kairos_ , _but are never here_. Yeah, those people.

Travis huffs, groaning and falling forward onto the counter, reminding Percy of a dying walrus or a beached whale.

“Oh, come on, Percy! Please? She’s going to say yes to a date this time, I can feel it!” Travis pleads, giving him a pouty look that Percy doesn’t trust for a second. The one and only time he trusted that look, he ended up covered in peanut butter and streaking through the streets of Manhattan.

Yeah, he’s not falling for that again.

“That’s what you said the last three times!”

Travis’s forehead thumps against the counter. “But, Percy—” he starts to whine, only be cut off by the front door opening the little bell over the door chiming obnoxiously.

A tall figure steps into the shop, covered from head to toe in so much winter gear that Percy is vaguely reminded of a marshmallow. A shivering, six-and-a-half feet tall marshmallow.

Travis glances at the figure, disinterested, and finally goes back to messing with his popsicle sticks, going cross-eyed as he tries to balance one precariously on the bridge of his nose. It’s not working, of course but it makes for an interesting sight.

Percy glances back at the customer, making sure they aren’t looking before his arm shoots out and whaps Travis on the side of the head. The popsicle stick flies off his nose and audibly skitters across the floor of the now silent shop, and Travis loses his balance and tumbles off his stool onto the floor.

He glares up at Percy, but otherwise doesn’t move.

That’s fine. Travis can just stay down there. It’s not like he was really helping to man the counter anyway. Percy glances at the popsicle stick castle, then decides to just ignore that too.

The giant marshmallow man is still hovering near the front door, now wrestling with his absurdly long scarf—seriously the thing has to be at least seven feet long. Who the hell needs a scarf that’s that long?

While the man takes his time, Percy decides to rehearse his greeting in his head. Maybe something like—

_“Welcome to_ Kairos _! Please keep your hands and feet on your side of the counter at all times! Also, please note that the Stolls will probably steal your wallet and Jason might accidentally drop your ice cream on your shoes and then, while apologizing to you profusely, he might trip over himself and end up falling onto our tray of free samples here on the counter! Then, I’ll get yelled at by my boss and have to work overtime to pay for any damages caused! How may I help you?”_

—yeah, maybe he should skip the greeting.

The walking marshmallow finally frees himself from his scarf prison, and Percy realizes he knows the guy.

Christopher Rodriguez blinks back at him from across the shop, raising a hand in a quick wave as he shivers and tugs his jacket tighter around him. His dark hair is windblown beneath his hat, messy curls looking a bit frozen at the tips, and he’s struggling to pull off his mittens. His dark eyes narrow at the cloth covering his hands, before finally ripping them off with his teeth.

Now, Percy doesn’t know Chris all that well. Just that he’s not originally from New York and moved to the city about four years ago from one of the warmer states down in the South West—Texas, maybe? New Mexico?—and that he’s dating Percy’s former nemesis, Clarisse la Rue.

Percy and Clarisse have since come to an understanding—and have even become friends, sort of. It’s more of a friendly rivalry than anything else. Clarisse doesn’t try to kill him anymore, so that’s good—but he’ll never forget the time in freshman year when Clarisse shoved his _head in a toilet_.

“Oh, hey, Chris,” he greets awkwardly, giving a short wave at the newcomer. “What are you doing here?” Percy asks, receiving a strange look from Chris. Just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, Percy winces, feeling like slapping himself at the stupid question. He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “Never mind, this is an ice cream shop, why else would you be here.”

Chris simply nods in reply, then steps up to the counter quietly.

If he sees Travis pouting on the floor, he chooses not to mention it.

“So,” Percy starts slowly, wondering if he’s supposed to actually make conversation. It seems like the polite thing to do. He and Chris aren’t exactly strangers, hell, Percy might even consider the other guy his _friend_ , but Chris has never really seemed like one for conversation. He’s always been quiet like that. Always there, but seemingly off in his own world.

He clears his throat. “You’re pretty bundled up there,” he notes. “Is it really that cold today?”

Chris sends him what Percy thinks might be an exasperated look and the tension leaves him, Chris suddenly looking much more comfortable in the shop.

He shrugs, sending Percy a small grin. “I’m from Arizona,” he says, “it’s always cold here.” He makes a face at that, and Percy laughs.

“Right,” he snickers. “So, ice cream!” He points at Chris. “The usual? Or are you feeling adventurous today?” he jokes, hoping he isn’t overstepping some boundary. Clarisse would kill him if he did.

Chris suddenly turns bright red, and this time it’s not because of the cold. “Umm,” he clears his throat, embarrassed as he sputters a bit. “Well, it’s not really for me.” He shrugs, and Percy’s head tilts to the side in confusion. “It’s, well, it’s for Clarisse,” he finally babbles out. “It’s, you know, that time of the month,” he finishes quietly.

“Oh,” is Percy’s oh so intelligent response to that tidbit of information. (Because how else is he supposed to reply? Is he supposed to apologize? No, that seems like a bad idea on so many levels, Chris isn’t the one that’s _bleeding_ —and he should stop right there.) Wow, umm, okay. He, umm, didn’t need to know that. He _really_ didn’t need to know that.

“Aww!” Travis suddenly gushes from his sprawled position on the floor, sending Chris a toothy grin. “It’s adorable that you’re buying your girlfriend period ice cream, Chris! It really is!” Travis shoots Chris a double thumbs up and wiggles his eyebrows. Percy kind of wants to kick him while he’s down. “Rackin’ in the points! Or is she making you do it?” he asks, quirking a brow.

Chris looks like he wants to crawl under a rock and die, and Percy kind of wants to do the exact same thing.

The other male clears his throat, rubbing the back of his head and looking down at his shoes, the snow from his boots melting into a puddle beneath him.

Yeah, Percy can’t wait to clean that up.

“It’s a surprise…” Christ tells them, trailing off awkwardly.

Travis whoops from the floor. “ ‘Atta boy!” he shouts, cackling. “You’re the true MVP here, Chris!” he gushes, making Chris turn even more red. Travis doesn’t stop though, he just keeps babbling incoherently about Chris being a “super great guy!” Which just makes Chris more and more uncomfortable.

Percy rolls his eyes, wondering if Travis is just fooling around, but then he catches the wistful look on his friend’s face, and the smile on his lips. For a split second, he even reconsiders taking the late shift.

He looks back at Chris, deciding to ignore the love guru on the floor. “Ignore him,” he says, kicking Travis in the leg. The other man yelps and kicks back, but misses. “Peach right?” he asks Chris, who nods. “All right, I’ll be right back.”

Percy smiles at Chris one last time, then glares down at Travis, who merely blinks back. “And you? Shut up and go clean a table or something! Stop harassing our customers!” he hisses, heading to the back.

“But, Percy!” Travis calls after him. “Chris and I are friends! Aren’t we, Chris?”

Chris doesn’t respond.

Percy shakes his head as disappears through the archway leading into the back half of the shop, laughing lightly as he does.

For the most part, he isn’t surprised by what he sees when he enters the back. Grover is pretending to do inventory, but is really just curled up between two large tubs of vanilla gelato, his phone shoved in his grinning face, Rasta cap nearly falling off his head. Jason is arguing with Nico, who doesn’t want to put on the uniform vest, despite working here for nearly a year, and Connor is laughing at them, vest buttoned haphazardly.

Surprisingly, the back isn’t a complete disaster like it usually is at this point. Yet. There’s still time for Jason to break something or Nico to deck Connor and knock over an entire shelf of gelato. Or, maybe Grover will start another damn fire like last time. Percy has no idea how that even happened, but it took a week to clean up the back.

Nothing’s happened yet, but it will. Something always happens, without fail. It’s just a matter of when and how at this point.

Three heads snap his way when he enters the back, and Percy freezes, wondering if he should have sent Travis back instead. But no. Travis would just make things worse. He would add fuel to the fire and then suddenly there would be fighting and police and they would all be hauled away by the NYPD—and Percy _cannot_ be arrested again. Not now.

And then suddenly everyone’s yelling and Percy feels like his head is going to explode.

“Percy! Nico won’t put on his vest!” Jason shouts, pointing an accusing finger in Nico’s direction, then shooting a glare at the younger boy, who sends back a poisonous look.

Nico practically growls. “Would you stop trying to make me wear the damn vest?” he snarls back. “I don’t want to wear it, Jason! It’s itchy and it makes me look like a nerd!”

“It’s a uniform! You have to wear it!” Jason argues back. “That’s the whole point of a uniform! God, you do this everyday! Why can’t you just make this easy for all of us?!”

Connor just keeps cackling.

This is all way above Percy’s pay grade.

Nico opens his mouth to snap something back, and Percy decides that now is a good time to cut in. You know, before an all out brawl starts and they all end up fired.

“All right, that’s enough,” Percy breaks in loudly, crossing his arms and glaring at the three boys, lips twisting into a frown. The effect of bringing out “Serious Percy” is instantaneous: Connor shuts up, the smile slipping from his lips, Nico looks away, running a hand through his hair—a nervous tick, and Jason’s gaze drops to his shoes. Even Grover stops staring at his phone to glance at Percy, worry in his eyes.

 Percy squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. He doesn’t like this side of himself—doesn’t like yelling at them and being the bad guy, but someone’s got to.

 He sighs heavily, running a hand through his dark hair and opening his eyes to see three pairs of wide eyes staring back at him. “Connor,” the boy snaps to attention at the sound of his name, “go out front and help your brother clean the tables, and keep him away from the customers.” The boy gives a solute and a wink before darting out to the front. “Nico,” he turns to the next boy, “please, just put on the vest.” Nico shoots him a sour look, but finally complies, finally yanking off his sweatshirt and reaching for his uniform shirt with a sulky expression. “And Jason,” Percy meets a pair of wide, blue eyes and sighs again. “Just don’t break anything.”

 Jason nods and disappears, off to organize something in the back. Or maybe grab more spoons. Something safe that won’t allow Jason to accidentally destroy something.

 Percy rubs a tired hand down his face, walking over to the peach ice cream off to Grover’s right, nudging his friends leg with his foot as he passes. Grover reaches out from his hiding spot and whacks Percy’s leg in response, grumbling something under his breath that Percy ignores.

 He grabs a take away bowl from the cabinet about Grover, who makes a face at him when Percy glances down. “What?” he asks, laughing slightly at the disgust on Grover’s face.

 “Peach ice cream is so weird,” he murmurs back, wrinkling his nose.

 Percy rolls his eyes. “It’s better than freaking Wallace and his stupid pear and blue cheese concoction from Hell,” he snarks back, opening the tub and grabbing a scoop.

 “Will.”

 “Hmm?” Percy glances up from the peach ice cream, pausing mid scoop. Nico is standing in the archway, looking back at him. “What was that, Nico?”

 The younger boy shrugs nonchalantly. “Will,” he repeats. “His name is Will, not Wallace.” He turns on his heel and disappears from the room.

 Percy merely shrugs and goes back to scooping Clarisse’s peach ice cream into a blue, plastic take away container. By the time he’s done, Grover is back to being engrossed in his phone, a dopey smile on his face that can only mean he’s been texting Juniper all afternoon.

 “So,” he starts slowly, putting a cover on the bowl before closing the ice cream tub. Grover peaks up at him briefly, but that’s all. “Are you going to come up front, or continue to sit back here and pretend to take inventory for the rest of the night?” he asks his friend jokingly, nudging him again.

 Grover rolls his eyes. “I am taking inventory,” Grover huffs. Percy quirks a brow at him, glancing at Grover’s little blanket cocoon between the ice cream tubs, and Grover blushes crossing his arms as his phone vibrates in his hand.

 “Yeah,” Percy agrees, “inventory of what Juniper’s wearing,” he finishes slyly.

 Grover sputters. “I am not _sexting_ Juniper!” he shouts, then winces at his volume and lowers his voice. Percy really hopes that no one out front heard that. “Percy, I’m not _sexting_ Juniper! You can’t just say things like that!”

 Percy laughs. “I didn’t say you were _sexting_ Juniper, Grover,” he reminds him. And technically it’s true. Percy didn’t _say_ anything about sexting, just a mild insinuation that could or could not have been taken in the direction Grover took it. That’s all.

 “You implied it,” his friend scoffs back, pointedly ignoring his buzzing phone.

 Percy grins. “Actually I was implying that Juniper has been showing you possible date night outfits for the past hour, but hey! You’re the one with the dirty mind!” he teases, laughing at his friend’s flustered expression.

 “I hate you.”

 He laughs again. “Love you, too, Grover,” he coos back, ruffling his friend’s curly hair. Grover glares up at him as he fixes his hat. “So are coming out front?” he asks, already knowing the answer. Grover never likes to come out front, not unless it’s before or after hours.

 “Nah,” he shrugs. “You seem to have it covered,” he laughs, though it sounds weak. “You’re the charismatic one, Percy,” he finishes almost bitterly, smile dampening. Then, he glances up with a smile, whacking Percy’s shin. “Besides, someone has to watch Jason.”

 Percy decides not to comment on the charisma remark. Or about how Grover isn’t exactly sitting back here and _watching_ Jason. He’ll let Grover be, at least for today. There’s enough of them working for Grover to stay in the back, after all.

 He nods at Grover, patting him on the shoulder before heading back to the front. And everything seems all right again. Connor and Travis are both wiping down the booths, Nico is filling plastic containers with napkins and spoons, and Chris is right where Percy left him, though looking much more comfortable without Travis gushing at him about who knows what.

“Here you go, Chris!” He smiles, handing over the ice cream container. “I went with a large because, well, yeah. I hope that’s okay.” He probably should have asked first, but oh well. Chris doesn’t really seem to mind as he simply nods, and hands over a ten, telling Percy to keep the change before he turns on his heel and leaves, winding his long scarf back around him before disappearing out the door.

 Percy takes a slow look around the room, gaze drifting over his coworkers languidly, smiling as Connor swats at Travis with a wet rag, which smacks his bother across the mouth with a wet “plop.” Working at a New York ice cream shop in the middle of Winter, Percy decides, is a hell of a lot better than watching paint dry. Because at least he has good company.

 Percy grins and is just about to agree to take the late shift for Travis when a horrible crashing sound comes from the back, like a million tubs of ice cream have just fallen down and splattered across the floor that Percy had just washed an hour ago. That clean, white floor that Percy wipes down every other hour so that it stays spotless. That floor.

 And it’s probably covered in fifty flavors of ice cream.

 “Uh, Percy!” a nervous Jason calls from the back, voice quivering just the slightest.

 On second thought, he’d rather be watching paint dry.


	2. Chapter Two

“Look, I’m just saying that that’s not a normal ice cream flavor,” Percy snaps back, glaring at Nico from his spot on the other side of the counter before snatching the pencil out of his hand. Nico rolls his eyes and throws his hands into the air, clearly fed up with having this conversation _again_. For the fifth time _today_. Hell, Percy is sick of the damn gelato discourse too, but he’s not going to stop until pear and blue cheese gelato is _banned_ from this shop. Forever. Never to return again. If he has to order another ten gallon tub of that nasty ass gelato, he’s going to rip off his boot and eat it. And jokes on them! If he eats his boot, then _all of them_ are going to be having a really shitty day as they rush Percy to the hospital because of the damn leather in his intestines and frostbitten toes. 

So, ha! Who’s laughing now, Nico? 

The aforementioned boy sighs through his nose and rubs his forehead, before locking his tired eyes with Percy’s green one’s. His open oceanography textbook lays forgotten on the counter between them as Percy twirls Nico’s pencil between his fingers. “Percy,” he half-whines, “just let it go.” The younger boy sends him another half-hearted glare and what Percy thinks is a pout. “You’re acting like a child.”

Yeah, says the whining, pouting fifteen-year-old that looks like the poster child of early two-thousand’s pop-punk music. The pencil in his hand stops spinning. _Wait_ , Percy thinks about the piercings in his ears and the ripped jeans and leather jacket and useless but fashionable fingerless gloves shoved into said leather jacket adorning his dorm room floor, _maybe_ he’s _the poster child of early two-thousand’s pop-punk music_.

He resists the urge to run a hand through his messy hair. He’s… he’s Nico, only older and nicer and with better hair. God, this is horrible! Percy is too young to be a role model! He can barely roll himself out of bed on the weekend, how is he supposed to show Nico how to be a proper gentleman-punk? Percy doesn’t know how to adult, yet!

Is this what an existential crisis feels like?

Percy squeezes his eyes shut, counting to ten silently before opening his eyes once more. Nico peers at him curiously, brows pinched together and head cocked to the side. He shakes his head, tossing the mechanical pencil back at the younger male with a flick of the wrist. It catches Nico off-guard, bouncing off his forehead before clattering to the floor. The other boy curses, slapping a hand to his stinging skin before ducking down to swipe the projectile off the ground.

He pops back up glaring at Percy, who merely shrugs and tries to dismiss the absurd notion that he’s _Nico_ , only older and more smooth with the ladies. Which, frankly, isn’t really saying much. Nico is horrible with people in general, so anyone is a step up from him, but Percy? He’s “charismatic” as Grover so kindly put it. He’s friendly and funny and nice enough, but when it comes to girls he’s always saying the wrong thing or being “ _too_ sassy,” says Grover.

 _Blasphemy_ , Percy thinks.  There’s no such thing as “to much” sass. Sass is a fundamental part of who Percy is. I he doesn’t let it out he’ll blow up, and then they’ll have to call in the hazmat team to clean up Percy-bits off the walls and wonder why he suddenly exploded. Besides, if the girls can’t handle his sass, they _obviously_ aren’t the one for him.

(He tries not to think about the times when girls have walked out on a date with him because of his bog mouth. Plural. As in, three dates. In the past year. So far, there hasn’t been a second date. Awesome.)

His gaze snaps back to Nico, the “child” comment still a fresh wound. “I don’t care!” he growls half-heartedly. “There’s something inherently wrong with ordering pear and blue cheese gelato when there are a thousand other flavors to choose from!” He slams his hand down on the counter, causing Jason, who’s been dozing on the stool beside Nico for the better part of an hour, to snap awake with so much force that he ends up slapping himself in the face with a arm that’s fallen asleep—which is freaking _hilarious_ , but he’s too frustrated to laugh.

Percy ignores him and tries not to think about the small puddle of drool where Jason’s head used to be. Which Percy _will_ have to clean up, since he seems to be the only competent person here.

Nico scoffs. “Yeah,” he agrees slowly, “and the same could be said for blue food.” He shrugs as Percy gasps in shock, and Jason stops prodding at his rapidly swelling nose long enough to send Nico a look of horror, muttering a soft “dude” under his breath and shaking his head. Travis and Connor stop wiping down the tables, exchanging a nervous look before glancing back at the counter.

Percy wonders if “betrayal” could be used as a legitimate excuse for firing someone. Actually, he’s the manager, he can do whatever the hell he wants!

He stares at Nico, jaw clenching tightly, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the counter. “Take it back,” he says softly—slowly—the words heavy on his tongue. It would have been far kinder of Nico to just punch him in the face, but blue food? That is an insult to everything Percy stands for. That is an insult to Percy’s _mother_ —the absolute nicest lady in the world and best mother ever—and he will not stand for that. He absolutely will _not_. “Apologize,” he tells Nico, deathly serious, “or I’ll lock you in the freezer.”

Is it an empty threat? Maybe. Is it humane to lock someone in an ice cream freezer? No. Would Chiron fire him for it? Probably. Would he go to jail? Only if the cops find out.

Nico sighs, slowly closing his oceanography textbook when it becomes apparent that their tutoring session is officially over (hell yeah, it’s over, Nico! You can’t just insult someone’s mom and expect to get a free tutoring lesson! Maybe, he should start charging…). “Percy,” Nico groans, “would you just let it—”

“You take it back!” Percy hisses, cutting him off and stabbing a finger in the younger boys direction. “You’ve insulted my mother, Nico— _my mother_! What has she ever done to you, Nico? Nothing that’s what!” Percy snaps, throwing his hands in the air with a huff. “She bakes you cookies on your birthday. She drives you to the hospital three times a year when Jason breaks your arm—”

“Hey!” Jason interjects, offended. (His voice is nasally, and his nose is turning purple at the edges, and Percy vaguely realizes that Jason has probably broken his nose, and they might need to bring him to a doctor. Great.)

None of them hear the little bell above the door chime as someone slips open the door.

“Shut up Jason!” Percy snaps, turning back to Nico. “She loves you like a son and—”

“Okay!” Nico shouts. “Okay, I’m sorry! Just shut the hell up!” he continues, slamming his head onto the counter. “For the love of—you are the single most insufferable person I have ever—”

“Me?” Percy gasps. “You’re the one the who insulted my mother!”

“You threatened to lock me in a freezer!” Nico snaps back, throwing his arms up and looking like he wants to beat Percy to death with the oceanography textbook still sitting on the counter between them. “That’s not even legal, Percy! What the fu—”

“Umm,” a quiet voice interjects, “am I interrupting something?” Percy’s gaze snaps up to peer over Nico’s head, and Nico freezes in place, flushing, the tips of his ears turning a bit red as he recognizes the voice.

Will Fucking Solace. Freaking pear and blue cheese boy. The bane of Percy’s existence. He’s committed the kid’s name to memory, should Percy ever need to find and _destroy_ him. Speaking of which, they’re almost— _almost_ out of this kid’s nasty gelato and Percy refuses to buy another tub of it. He _refuses_. If Will Fucking Solace makes him order another tub today, Percy’s going to vault over this counter and throttle him. His going to ban Will Solace from this shop if it’s the last thing he ever does.

And doesn’t Will just look so innocent with his shaggy blonde hair and big blue eyes? Doesn’t he know that he’s the reason Percy doesn’t want to go to work every morning?

Will Fucking _Soulless_ , that’s what he should’ve been named.

“No!” Nico suddenly blurts, standing up so fast that he knocks his books on to the floor and nearly smacks Jason in the face with a flailing arm. “No! We were just—talking and—yeah!”

Travis and Connor snicker at Nico’s flustered words, but quickly try to cover it up with obnoxious coughing when Nico sends them a dirty look. Will just frowns, confused.

“Is he okay?” Will asks, jerking a thumb in Jason’s direction. Percy glances at the younger employee, who’s begun to bruise rapidly now and keeps prodding at his nose and whimpering.

Percy rolls his eyes. “He’ll be fine.”

Just a normal day at the gelato shop: Connor and Travis are being shitheads, Grover is hiding the back, Jason is breaking things—be it the shop or himself, and Nico is becoming flustered around the attractive male customers. Meanwhile, Percy just wants to go home, sleep, and try not to think about finals week coming up. Maybe cry a little bit and eat more pizza than he should. Something like that.

Will doesn’t look convinced, but really, he seems more occupied with making goo-goo eyes at Nico than making sure Jason isn’t going to drop dead any second, so, frankly, Percy thinks the concern is wasted. Jason is fine, but Nico looks like he might melt into a puddle is Will keeps staring at him like that, so, with a heavy heart, Percy realizes it’s time for him to actual _earn_ his paycheck and get Will his nasty gelato.

Percy clears his throat loudly, and suddenly everyone in the room is looking at him with wide eyes and varying degrees off horror. Oh, please. He just cleared his throat and they’re all looking at him like he just threatened to blow up he Williamsburg Bridge. Babies.

“So,” Percy starts slowly, “what brings you hear, Will?” His smile is tight, phony as a one of those ridiculous plastic plants, but Will doesn’t appear to notice as he grins back.

“Right!” He steps up to the counter, nearly knocking shoulders with Nico who looks about ready to pass out. As funny as that would be, Nico’s on the clock and Percy kind of needs another competent worker, considering Grover is still hiding and Jason is clearly incapacitated at the moment. “I’ll just have the usual,” he tells Percy, shrugging.

 _The usual_ , Percy thinks mockingly. Not today, he decides. Will will not be getting that gelato today. Percy is going to make Will see the light. Whether that be due to an epiphany or death is entirely up to young William here.

Wait, is Will even short for William? Probably. Actually, Percy doesn’t care. William Solace it is. That’s his name now. As manager of the gelato shop, Percy declares it law.

“Are you sure?” Percy asks Will, leaning forward, forearms braced against the counter top. Will gives him an odd look, and begins to turn a brilliant shade of red. “Are you really sure that’s what you want, Will?” he asks again, slower this time, head bent so he’s eye-level with the younger boy.

“I—” the blond chokes out, tongue-tied. “What?” Will swallows thickly, eyes impossibly wide as he stares at Percy, more than a little confused. Good Percy wants him to be confused. Let him question all of his horrible life choices, starting with his regular choice in gelato.

Is this horrible of Percy? Most definitely. Does he care? Nope.

Percy grins for real this time. “Are you sure you want your usual order?” he clarifies, getting some kind of sick enjoyment out of watching both Will and Nico squirm. Good, let them squirm. They’re both horrible people. Blue cheese loving, mother insulting, horrible people. “You don’t want to try the special this week? Or chocolate? Or, really anything else? Anything at all?” You know, something normal?

Behind Will, Connor and Travis snicker, then start whispering before Travis hands Connor what Percy hopes is money. It’s that, or Percy just witnessed a drug deal in his store with his very own eyes. He’s not really sure what he just saw. He’s too tired for this. He’s a sad, tired, “adult” that made the terrible decision of taking an eight AM class without thinking of the repercussions. Finals are coming up and he’s running off a grand total of three hours of sleep and four cups of coffee—which reminds him that he really needs to pee—and he just wants to go curl up in the back room and hide there until his shift is over.

He doesn’t want to adult.

(He’s blowing this way out of proportion. Travis and Connor probably just made a bet. Of what, he isn’t sure. Maybe when Percy would finally blow a gasket—not that he’s blown a gasket yet. He’s just very, very close to doing so. Like, super close. Like, if he ever has to hear the phrase “pear and blue cheese” again he’ll probably murder Will Solace in his sleep and wind up in jail and— _wow_ he really needs to get some sleep. He’s being an asshole today.)

“N—no,” Will says, clearing his throat. “I’ll just, umm, stick with the usual.” He glances at Nico out of the corner of his eye, but the other boy is too busy messing with a cup full of straws to notice.

Percy smiles. “No.”

Several things happen at once. Nico drops the straw container, sending it crashing to the floor. Straws scatter, rolling away and disappearing into the void never to be seen again. The Stolls stop wiping down the tables, their eyes so wide they look like they’re about to pop out. Jason makes a terrible wheezing sound as he inhales sharply through his nose. There’s a clatter from the backroom as Grover drops something onto the recently cleaned wood floors. Will’s jaw drops, and whoever thought up the phrase “the customer is always right” begins to roll in their grave.

And Percy? He just smiles.

That one little word feels so good to say.

Will’s mouth moves, but the only sound that leaves him is strangled—making him sound like a beached whale as he gapes at Percy, blinking rapidly. His head cocks to the side, and for a moment Percy feels bad, because Will looks exactly like the golden retriever puppy his mom’s neighbor adopted—all big puppy eyes and curly hair, but sans the snout and wet kisses—well, Percy can’t really comment on that last one.

“What?” Will finally manages to squeak out. “I’m sorry, I—”

“We ran out!” Percy lies smoothly, one of his many talents with his mouth. (Others being: tying cherry stems into knots and touching his tongue to his nose.) “Over the weekend,” he clarifies. “There was a sudden influx of people wanting to buy pear and blue cheese gelato, must be a new fad.” No it isn’t. The stuff is nasty and Percy wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole if he could help it. Hopefully if he keeps using big words Will will believe him.

Everyone always assumes he has a poor vocabulary, and honestly he’s very offended by that. His mother is a _writer_ , of course he knows big words! He just doesn’t like to use them because people like Connor and Travis can’t understand them. That, and sometimes he can’t remember what they mean, but that’s beside the point.

“Oh?” Will sounds confused and—surprisingly—vaguely disgusted and relieved all at once. That’s… kind of odd, coming from someone that buys it on the regular, but Percy doesn’t question it. Maybe Will is a glutton for punishment. Percy won’t judge—that’s a lie, he totally will.

“Are you—are you sure?” Will asks him, still disgusted—relieved—whatever. “Like, are you sure, you’re sure?” Is that—is that _hope_ on his face.

Will Solace is an odd one, that’s for sure.

“Yeah!” Percy continues the charade, ignoring Jason’s frantically shaking head and the violent buzzing in his pocket—probably Grover yelling at him. “We ran out and haven’t been able to order a new tub yet! It was just, really sudden, you know? One minute it was half-full and the next it was empty!” Will looks shocked. “It was probably Grover’s fault,” Percy babbles, jerking a thumb towards the back room. “He’s supposed to be in charge of inventory.” A second later his phone starts buzzing again, in rapid succession.

Percy considers tossing it across the room.

Will doesn’t seem to know what to say. “That’s… that’s too bad?” It sounds more like a question than anything, and the kid certainly doesn’t look all that disappointed to Percy. Which is good, right? Because Percy may hate Will’s choice in frozen desert, but he doesn’t hate Will. In fact, he kind of likes the guy. He’s smart, and witty. And he keeps Nico, Jason, and Connor out of trouble at school, which Percy appreciates more than anything.

(Percy would never say it out loud, but those three are his _kids_. Sure, he makes fun of them and considers doing them bodily harm from time to time, but he would do anything for them; and it kills him that he can’t take care of them all the time like he used to. He can’t protect them from the bullies at school, or keep them out of trouble and he _hates_ it.)

Percy just hums in semi-agreement. “That and we’re thinking about downsizing on our flavors. No sense in keeping stock of that many during Winter. Especially when so many of them don’t get eaten.” Will nods along like he agrees. What a great guy. “So, yeah! We’re downsizing!”

Jason frowns at him, confused, and presses an ice cream sandwich to his swelling nose. Percy has no idea where he got that from, but he better pay for it. He’s pretty sure they can’t sell ice cream that was used as an ice pack. “No we’re not,” Jason blurts, sending Percy an odd look.

Percy shoots him a glare, suddenly glad for his resting bitch face. “Yes, we are. Shut up Jason.” Percy waves him off. “Do you want to pick something else?” he asks Will.

Before Will can answer, Nico speaks up, looking far too innocent. Percy has a bad feeling about this.

“But Percy,” he says, giving him a sly smile, “we just got a new shipment of it this morning, remember?” No, because it didn’t happen. Why does Nico have to ruin everything? “We’re fully stocked!” the little punk says with fake enthusiasm, turning to grin at Will.

His crew is turning on him, he realizes morbidly. It’s finally happened. They’re mutinying and Percy’s going to end up at the bottom of the Hudson River, swimming with the fishes. Mercilessly drowned by his own crew. How cruel of them. It was a good life he led—but alas, all good things must come to an end. At least he’ll get out of taking his calc final. That’s a good thing.

“Right.” Percy sends Nico a tight-lipped smile, silently promising to put Nico on bathroom duty for the rest of the month. “Must of slipped my mind! We’ve been pretty busy this morning!” No they haven’t. “Plus, I’m getting old,” he jokes. Nineteen sure _feels_ old. “I forget things!” He needs a nap. “I’ll go get that for you!”

“No!” Nico blurts, standing suddenly and nearly tripping over his still downed textbook. Will and Percy both stare at him wide-eyed and Nico turns an interesting shade of red. “I mean—I’ll get it!” He laughs awkwardly. “My break ended at some point when Percy was screaming at me earlier—”

Percy huffs. “I wouldn’t have to yell at you if you would just—”

Nico continues as if Percy had never spoken. “Yeah! So I better earn my keep!” Will blinks at him. “You know, do my job!” He cringes and looks about ready to spontaneously combust if it means getting out of this situation. Percy can understand that. That’s how he feels ninety-percent of the time.

“I’ll just go now,” Nico disappears into the back without another word, red-faced and awkwardly broody as usual.

And that just leaves Percy, Will, and Jason. Only one of them looks ready to cry, so Percy thinks today has been pretty swell so far. Swell? What the fuck? Why would he even— _swell_. God, he sounds like Grover’s uncle. And Percy once saw Grover’s uncle try to eat a tin-can when he was drunk. It was not a pretty sight.

For a moment, Percy considers, you know, _saying something_ to their customer, but then stops, figuring he’s already shoved his foot far enough into his mouth for one day. Luckily, he doesn’t have long to wait, because Nico is back with Will’s gross order lickety-split, and then Will is smiling at Nico and Nico is smiling at Will, and then Jason’s head ‘thunks’ onto the counter and Will is excusing himself _oh so politely_.

Nico doesn’t move. Doesn’t _breathe_. He simply stares after Will all starry-eyed. Percy suddenly gets it!

“Oh!” he laughs. “You’ve got a crush on pear and blue cheese boy!” He snickers. It’s kind of adorable. He’s never seen Nico with a crush before, and it’s certainly entertaining! Wow, Nico likes Will. That’s, well, that’s wild. Kind of cute actually. Like one of those coffee shop AU fanfiction that Bianca writes in her free time.

He’s happy for Nico. Will seems nice enough.

Nico’s gaze snaps to Percy. “Hmm?” he asks, snapping out of his thoughts.

 Percy slips a serious look onto his face, which isn’t really all that hard. “I said you’re fired,” he jokes, trying to keep his lips from twitching into a smile as Nico stares at him in horror.

“For what?” Nico snaps, dark eyes going so wide that Percy’s afraid they might pop out.

Percy simply stares back coolly. “Insubordination,” he says casually, pretending to straighten up the counter. His smile betrays him though, and Nico rolls his eyes and slinks back to his seat beside Jason, scooping up his textbook as he does.

Connor snickers at the exchange.

“You’re fired, too,” Percy tells him.

Connor scoffs. “Oh, really? For what?”

Percy shrugs. “You’re just annoying.”

It’s quiet for a moment, but then Connor speaks again. “Why are there never any girls in here?” he asks the rest of them, flopping down into one of the booths toward the front of the shop, voice muffled by the blue leather.

“Probably because you work here,” Percy replies automatically, sighing to himself. He still has to pee.

A voice comes from the back. “Point, Percy!”

Nice. That solidifies his position in first place with a lead of, what? Ten points? He’s lost track of the comeback competition. He just knows he’s winning. At the end of the month, loser buys winner an ice cream of their choice, which is kind of a horrible prize considering they work at an ice cream place, but hey! They work with what they’ve got!

He’s pretty sure Jason is losing this month. The kids just _too_ nice.

“Well,” Nico starts, planning to answer Connor’s question seriously. “Bianca is busy with college right now,” he muses, flipping his textbook back open and yanking at his sloppy tie.

Connor’s voice is still muffled when he murmurs something about not meaning girls that work here, so they all ignore him.

Travis scoffs at Nico. “Yeah, and so are the three of us—” he gestures to himself, Percy, and the still hidden Grover.

Nico sends him a look that says ‘really?’ “Yeah,” he mocks, “but Bianca actually studies.”

Travis shrugs in response, but Percy feels mildly offended. He studies! He studies super hard and _still_ has time to work here everyday and tutor Nico and Jason! That’s actually really cold of Nico. Just because Percy does have his head shoved into a textbook at every waking moment, doesn’t mean he doesn’t study.

Jason nods along with Nico and decides to chime in. “And Thalia can only work weekends because she’s busy with…” he trails off, frowning. “I don’t actually know what she’s busy with, to be honest,” he admits, brows scrunching together.

“I heard she joined an all girls biker gang,” Connor tells them, swinging legs the only part of him the rest can see.

Travis snorts, laughing a little. “I heard,” he says slowly, “that she ran off with Luke Castellan and eloped,” he whispers, wiggling his eyebrows.

Nico rolls his eyes. “Hardly,” he spits. “She and Castellan broke it off after—” his gaze slips to Percy for a second, before dropping to the floor, refusing to meet his eyes.

Percy freezes, hands clenching into fists as a thousand different thoughts hit him at once, all of them things he doesn’t want to remember. He shakes them off, fingers trembling.

Jason gives him an apologetic look. “And Piper is taking two AP classes this year!” he babbles, voice higher than usual. “So she’s taking some time off to study!” He grins as he talks about his girlfriend, but it’s nervous, and he keeps glancing at Percy like he might explode.

Travis laughs awkwardly, but it eases some of the tension in the suddenly too small room. “You high Schoolers,” he jokes, rolling his eyes. “Always complaining about your work load!” He shakes his head. “Just wait ‘til you get to college! Then you can complain!”

“Ah, high school,” Percy says gruffly, faking enthusiasm. “The worst four years of my life.” He means it as a joke, but it falls flat. Nico and Jason won’t look at him, and for the first time ever, Travis seems at a loss for words.

“I miss it!” Grover suddenly shouts from the backroom, breaking the awkwardness up front.

“I miss my mom’s cooking,” Percy agrees.

Travis sighs. “I miss stealing Connor’s clothes while he’s in the shower.”

“I miss not crying during finals week,” Grover says cheerfully. Percy and Travis nod mournfully in agreement.

Jason blanches, looking between the college students with a horrified expression. “I would ask if you guys are okay,” he tells them, “but you clearly aren’t.”

Percy rolls his eyes. “You’re the one icing your nose with a sandwich,” he reminds. “I hope you’re paying for that later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I meant to have it up a bit earlier, but my weeks been pretty busy so far! Be sure to drop a comment and tell me what you think :D

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I have the first six chapters of this fic done, so the wait between chapters shouldn't be long at all! You can also find this fic on my tumblr and FF.net account (same pen name as here). Hope you guys enjoy! Please be sure to drop a comment and let me know what you think!


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